<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Slip of the Tongue by astronomical_alien</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904719">A Slip of the Tongue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomical_alien/pseuds/astronomical_alien'>astronomical_alien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Wrong Name [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Irondad, Light Angst, Mentioned Ben Parker, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sort Of, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, like it fits that trope line, spiderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:49:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomical_alien/pseuds/astronomical_alien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just let me do this, Ben!”<br/>The words rang in the air. Peter snapped his mouth shut; wide eyes stuck on Tony. Tony. Not Ben. <br/>Something like hurt contorted his face. In a flash of a moment, Peter reconciled with Tony’s position in his life. He filled that hole for Peter, not perfectly, but in his own way Tony stood in a paternal frame like Ben did and like a dad would. </p><p>OR <br/>Peter accidentally calls Tony Ben during an argument</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Wrong Name [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>213</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Slip of the Tongue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is pretty much just a drabble that I wrote in between working on some bigger fic projects and also because I'm such a sucker for this trope. <br/>Please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Peter wasn’t supposed to be at the tower tonight, but the results of a risky patrol where he had maybe gotten a little too in over his head had landed him there. He’d been battling it out with a new wannabe villain in Queens over the past week, and the most recent encounter on tonight’s patrol caused Karen to contact Tony. It was nothing serious, he’d fractured his collarbone and received a hardy concussion with some scrapes and bruises, but he was intact which was a win (only in his eyes). Because being just “intact” was never good enough for Tony, hence an unexpected stay at the tower on a Tuesday night.</p><p>The patrol-gone-wrong had also ignited an argument between them.</p><p>They’d been having these spats more and more frequently over the past month. Peter’s vigilantism would get out of hand in Tony’s eyes – the stakes would get too high, too dangerous for his liking and he’d try and tell Peter to stop or to cut back on patrols. Tonight, Peter had a close call and was talking about doing it again. Morally, Tony <em>had to</em> be against that idea because it put the kid at risk.</p><p>The root of these arguments really was that Tony was terrible at expressing his worries. He could never just outright say that he suffers an acute heart attack every time he receives an alert from Karen on Peter’s vitals. He can’t express that he cares about and prioritizes Peter’s well-being over everything else.</p><p>So, they always end up arguing.</p><p>“I can take him down,” Peter said.</p><p>They were in the kitchen – Tony had offered food as compensation for forcing Peter to get patched up and the quarrel had sparked right before they had crossed into the threshold.</p><p>“<em>This</em>,” Tony said with sharp emphasis as he pulled up Friday’s injury report from out of nowhere, “says otherwise.<em>”</em></p><p>Peter ignored the holographic screen that had popped up from the watch on Tony’s wrist.</p><p>“I know exactly how to do it,” he began but Tony beat him to the next interval of discussion.</p><p>“Not happening,” He said in a staccato voice, short and stern.</p><p>A ping of anger heated up Peter’s chest. This always happened. They always came back to this same conversation and he was tired of it.</p><p>“I downed a plane and fought a guy who was practically a mechanical bird,” he said, standing his ground. His nostrils flared a little as he spoke. “I know this guy’s weakness, I know his plan, and I can save a lot of people.”</p><p>“This is way above of your pay grade,” Tony said</p><p>His arms were crossed tight across his chest, jaw locked.</p><p>“I don’t get paid,” Peter said, expression flat but voice sharp and frustrated.</p><p>Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning against the kitchen island. Peter stood across from him, too restless to take a seat.</p><p>“Pete,” Tony said, “you’re a kid.”</p><p>In his mind, the conversation ended there. That was the fact of the matter – Peter was simply a kid and Tony was the adult trying to keep him safe.</p><p>“A kid with powers,” Peter said, “And I have to do something.” He pointed to the windows as if the problem was right outside. “This guy is terrorizing Queens and I need to be the one that stops him. I’m responsible for the whole situation.”</p><p>“You aren’t responsible for it.” Tony tried to say but Peter snapped back.</p><p>“You know what I mean, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>He thought of that first day, trying to explain to Tony why he stepped into a onesie and decided to swing around Queens do-gooding. Bad things happen, like muggings, like supervillains, like an uncle getting shot. And when you have powers that can stop those things, you <em>have</em> to use them.</p><p>“And I <em>know</em> I can stop this guy,” Peter said again, this time voice poignant. “I know he-“</p><p>Tony cut him off, “Peter, stop.”</p><p>His voice was like an irritated parent and it made Peter’s face fall into an incredulous expression. The memory synapses of his brain misconnected for half a second and six words came tumbling out of his mouth.</p><p>“Just let me do this, Ben!”</p><p>The words rang in the air. Peter snapped his mouth shut; wide eyes stuck on Tony. <em>Tony</em>. Not Ben.</p><p>Something like hurt contorted his face. In a flash of a moment, Peter reconciled with Tony’s position in his life. He filled that hole for Peter, not perfectly, but in his own way Tony stood in a paternal frame like Ben did and like a dad would.</p><p>Tony’s features softened. His jaw unclenched and his posture loosened like one of a million strings had been cut.</p><p>Things felt molten, still and moving all at once. Silence pierced Peter’s ears and a sudden sense of alarm kept him animated. Embarrassment, anger, sadness, all bubbled up like magma in his chest, ready to burst. He wanted to cry or yell or ask Tony to hug him.</p><p>“I’m going to my room,” He said instead, trying to reign in a defiant tone. But it was chipped, hinting to an old brokenness that had been there for a while. Two years to be exact, dating back to the day he’d lost Ben.</p><p>Tony didn’t stop him. He too had been hit over the head, harder than any blow in battle, with the role he had in Peter’s life. He stood in the emptiness of the living room in the penthouse. A heavy sigh pushed out of his lungs and he collapsed into an armchair. He rested his forehead on his palm, thinking too many thoughts at once. A voiceless cacophony all in his head.</p><p>He gave it an hour. Unsure of what to say, he didn’t seek Peter out. Instead he fiddled around in the kitchen, hand-washing dishes that could be taken care of by throwing them into the dishwasher. He waited on a barstool, working on a tablet and contemplating reaching out to Steve for advice. But when the hour was up, a natural sense took over – some intuition Tony dared to call paternal – and he found himself walking down the hall to Peter’s room.</p><p>He knocked on Peter’s door and a hoarse “Yeah?” was the response allowing him in.</p><p>The kid was curled up on his bed. Sparkling eyes caught in the low lights gave away his emotional state with ease. He sniffed as Tony stepped in with caution, giving the room the same respect as a cathedral.</p><p>“Hey,” He said.</p><p>“Hi,” Peter greeted back softly.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Tony said, surprising both of them. Those two words were practically non-existent in Tony Stark’s vocabulary.</p><p>“For what?” Peter asked, genuinely unsure of the apology’s source.  </p><p>He scooted over on his bed as an invitation for Tony to come closer.</p><p>Tony sat on the edge of the bed and took a breath.</p><p>“I know you can handle yourself out in the field,” he said, “And I don’t doubt you can take down New York’s newest nuisance. I’m sorry that I get…” Tony wasn’t sure what the word was for it. Sorry that he got worried? Scared? Sorry he acted like a helicopter parent? “I’m sorry I keep trying to control what you do as Spider-Man. I know I can’t stop you from doing what you do. I just get worried and to deal with that I try and reel you in. I need you to understand that.”</p><p>Peter listened to Tony, holding the man in a curious gaze.</p><p>A silence fell over them the way rain drizzles onto the ground, slowly and then all at once. Peter was still letting Tony’s words settle around him. Carefully, he started piecing together a response with all the scraps of thoughts stuck in his head. Some sort of nervousness balled up in his throat making it hard to speak. He drew in a breath that tremored like his hands. He balled them into fists to fight off the shakiness.</p><p>“I argued with a lot with Ben,” Peter said, voice as quiet as a mouse. “Or at least once I had my powers I did. The night it happened, we had a bad one. He caught me trying to sneak out. He was concerned, said he’d known I’d been leaving at night for the past two weeks. I didn’t know how to explain to him what I was doing. Like I couldn’t just say ‘Hey, I got bit by a radioactive spider and every night I go on rooftops to figure out what all I can do’. I got overwhelmed, so I ran out and he came after me.”</p><p>Peter rubbed his shoulder against his cheek, stopping a tear from dripping down his chin. His thoughts were derailing, and his rambling was taking a direction he didn’t mean it to. His chest felt hollowed out and his heartbeat echoed in the empty cavity. He just wanted to explain himself for saying the wrong name. But looking at the caring expression on Tony’s face, he realized that he didn’t need to explain anything. The slip up didn’t bother Tony, he clearly wasn’t mad about it. He just wanted to make sure Peter was okay.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Peter said with a sniff, “What I mean is that I get it.”</p><p>He pulled at a thread on his comforter, hands still shaky.</p><p>“You want me to be safe. Just like how I’d want you to be safe if you were telling me you were going to take on someone solo,” he said.</p><p>“Cat’s out of the bag, kiddo. I care about you,” Tony said, ruffling the kid’s hair before dropping his hand onto his shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze.</p><p>Peter smiled at him, a fragile one, but it was still there all the same.</p><p>“Cat’s not really out of the bag,” Peter laughed, “I’ve known months.”</p><p>“I’d hope you were smart enough to figure it out,” Tony joked.</p><p>A moment passed between them and then Tony said, “You okay?”</p><p>“I think so,” Peter said, the smile paired with his words was soft and genuine.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank so much for reading! Hope you liked it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>